


Alone

by CopperTulip



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Bonding, Brothers, Canon-Typical Violence, Fluff and Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-07
Updated: 2018-12-07
Packaged: 2019-09-13 11:31:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,326
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16891779
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CopperTulip/pseuds/CopperTulip
Summary: After Genji and Hanzo's tense reunion, Genji has been struggling to convince his brother that he no longer needs to be alone. Hanzo does not believe he has the right to put his own burdens on his little brother after what he did to him. He can do this alone. He can protect himself. He does not need help. What he doesn't realize is that sometimes, even the strongest person needs someone to lean against.





	Alone

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings: Violence. Otherwise, it's just Hanzo being his Angsty self.

“You need help, Hanzo. No matter how proud you are, no matter how much you believe you deserve this, you do not need to do this alone,” Genji’s voice rang through his head from the earpiece Hanzo had reluctantly agreed to purchase so that his brother had a way to reach out to him. “One of these days you will get tired of running, of fighting on your own.”

                Hanzo was already regretting his decision.

                Shuffling down the dimly lit alleyway up to the shitty run-down hotel he’d been holed up in for the past week he did not grace his brother with a response. Though the tensions that had been present after their initial reunion had melted away, and Hanzo’s disbelief and anger at his brother’s return had been replaced with burning self-hatred and a desire for redemption, he was not yet ready to face the other.   

                That did not mean that his brother was going to give up his attempts that easily.

                “You do not even need to join Overwatch, I am not trying to recruit you, Ani,” Genji persisted despite his brother’s silence keeping his tone calm despite the clear irritation he was feeling. “If you would at least join us here at the base you would have people around to protect you! You could socialize instead of spending your nights drowning your sorrows in alcohol and junk food!”

                An irritated breath fell from Hanzo’s nose his eyes flickering down towards the box balanced under his arm. A cake. One he had told himself he was not going to eat in one sitting.

                That was a lie.

                Genji did not need to know that.

                “When have I ever needed protection? All my presence would do is add another target to you and your ramshackle collection of friend’s heads,” Diverting the attention away from the subject of his drinking and eating habits, Hanzo buzzed himself into the stairwell glaring furiously down at the keypad when for a moment it clicked and whirred but did not grant him access.

  A second swipe of his card earned him a green light, and with a shove of his shoulder, the ill-maintained door finally swung open allowing him to begin the trudge up the crumbling staircase.

“There is not one person here that does not have a target above their heads, the only difference is that we have decided to face our foes together, we are stronger as a group!” Genji retorted stubbornly.

For a moment, Hanzo could visualize the flash of defiance in his brother’s amber eyes, the way his jaw set and his shoulders squared. He was older, more jaded but he was still his little brother.

He missed it.

Shaking away the thoughts before they could turn sour, Hanzo focused instead of the steps leading in front of him.

“My burdens are not yours to bear!” Hanzo snapped, trotting up the last flight of stairs and moving down the hallway to his room. Sliding his key into the slot, Hanzo rolled his eyes when Genji let out a frustrated groan his angrily muttered retort about what a stubborn jackass he was, fading away as Hanzo cracked open his door.

A breeze.

The window was open.

A shuffle of fabric.

A quiet breath.

Hanzo disconnected the call.

Hanzo’s eyes flashed, reeling back and slamming his foot into the door with enough force to crack the wood. The box in his arms fell to the ground, a blade sliding from the baggy sleeve of his stolen sweatshirt as a pained yowl sounded from behind the door and gunshots sprayed into the spot where Hanzo had been standing.

                A blade to the throat. The pained cries silenced with a gurgle. Before the body struck the ground Hanzo was on the second attacker. Knee to the nose. Elbow to the back of the head. The man was dazed but not dead.

                Two more attackers by the open window.

                A quick shift of weight. Hanzo hauled his opponent upwards, the man’s body absorbing a blade aimed for his back.

                Rolling to the side, Hanzo snagged a discarded towel from the floor tossing it into the face of his next attacker, a woman.

                She stumbled, startled. He quickly sent a kick to her chest sending her flying backward into her last companion who staggers missing his shot and falling backward over Hanzo’s bed. 

                Hanzo’s bow was by the bed. He didn’t like to take it out with him, too conspicuous. Grabbing it before his target could recover, he rammed forward into the woman as she stood, knocking her backward over her grounded companion and sending her crashing through the window with a shriek.

                He heard her hit the ground.

                The last man, dazed, reached for a discarded weapon at his feet.

                “Tch…” Hanzo growled, sending his foot into the side of the man’s head.

                Bones snapped. The man went still.

                Straightening, Hanzo wiped the blood from his cheek with the back of his hand, his eyes scanning the darkness for anyone he might have left alive. The room was silent, the only sounds were screams drifting up from the street below where the late-night drunks are stumbling across the corpse of his failed assassin.

Shouldering his bow, Hanzo snagged an unopened bottle of cheap whiskey, the only passable alcohol he’d found at the hole of a gas station around the corner, from his dresser. Ripping the lid open, he downed a few mouthfuls before kneeling beside one of the bodies.

                Quickly tearing the man’s sleeve, Hanzo let out a displeased sound when he saw the brand on his arm: Two dragons. Shimada. Yakuza. He hadn’t expected them to find him so quickly after their last defeat.

                “Pathetic,” He spat, disgusted, allowing the body to fall to the floor once more as he straightened, running his fingers through his shaggy unkempt hair.

                Sirens had joined the frantic voices of the gathering crowd downstairs. Hanzo barely registered the sound, instead, he snagged his duffle bag from the corner and made his way back through the splintered doorframe. Hesitating, he spotted his dessert on the floor, white frosting stained red, the cake crushed beneath the body of one of his attackers.

                Out of everything…that was the thing that sent anger flooding through his veins. Could the world not grant him this one happiness?

                Stepping over the mess, Hanzo reached up to his angrily beeping com, answering his brother’s insistent calls.

                “Finally!” Genji’s exasperated voice sounded off immediately in his ear. “You hung up on me you bastard, what happened?” He demanded.  
                “A situation developed that required my full attention, I apologize,” Hanzo mumbled darkly, making his way down the stairs at a trot.

                Immediately sensing his brother’s agitation, Genji’s tone shifted, worry immediately replacing anger.

                “Are you alright?”  
                “I am uninjured, I cannot say the same for my unwelcomed guests,” Hanzo assured curtly, earning a relieved sigh from his brother.

                “My offer stands, you do not need to face this on your own,” Hanzo sighed softly at the words, pulling his hood over his head and slipping out into the crowded streets using the chaos surrounding his assassin’s corpse to disappear down an alleyway.

                “I will…consider your offer,” Hanzo sighed, exhaustion clear in his voice as he shifted his bag and bow on his shoulder. “Perhaps I could stay, for a few nights, if it would ease some of your worries.” He mumbled, taking another sip from the bottle of whiskey still in his hand.

                Genji let out a relieved noise at this, the sound warming a part of Hanzo’s long dead heart.

                “Send me your coordinates, I will come to get you,” Genji insisted, barely concealed excitement in his voice. Hanzo could not help the small twitch of his lips into what could almost be considered a smile as he imagined the beaming grin on his brother’s lips. Pulling out his phone, Hanzo let out a soft, tired hum.

                “Very well.”

**Author's Note:**

> Trying to get back into writing before I head to my new college in fall. If you like it, leave a comment or kudos! I'm excited to be back up and writing again.


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